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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418743">Late night imaginings.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/buried_hatchet_coming_up_lavender/pseuds/buried_hatchet_coming_up_lavender'>buried_hatchet_coming_up_lavender</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel, The Defenders (Marvel TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Matt being a Catholic, mentions of needles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:20:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418743</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/buried_hatchet_coming_up_lavender/pseuds/buried_hatchet_coming_up_lavender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Matt stumbles home one night, bloodier than usual, you can't help but wonder how long you have left.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt Murdock/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Late night imaginings.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A deep-seated restlessness ached in your bones, pinching at the fatigue behind your eyelids because you should be asleep. You turned to look at the glaring neon of the clock - 04:06. <em>You really should be asleep.</em> And yet, despite your crippling lethargy, the agitation coursing through your body would not ease so you remained wide awake. </p>
<p>You were glaring at the ceiling, willing the mockingly sluggish minutes to pass just a <em>little</em> quicker. But alas, they did not. They lasted aeons. And with every passing eternity, the anxiety increased tenfold because it was another infinity of solitude. It was another minute without Matt.</p>
<p>You heaved a sigh, your nostrils flaring. Trust you to fall head over heels for a guilty Catholic with a vigilante complex. Trust you to fall in love with a guy who didn’t care if he came home, because if he died it would be for<em> his</em> city. </p>
<p>You weren’t quite sure what it was about this particular night that had your tensions up so high. Yes, each night you were worried, but tonight was different - you were absolutely terrified.</p>
<p>You heard the telltale grating squeak of the window being opened, and you ripped off the covers and raced to the living room. You almost sobbed when you saw the state he was in - your devil, all broken and beaten just for you. </p>
<p>Rushing over, you immediately slung his arm around your shoulder and the pair of you hobbled over to the bathroom, you carrying the entirety of Matt’s weight. You seated him on the edge of the bathtub, before tearing through the cabinets for the first aid kit.</p>
<p>“What are you still doing up?” he croaked, but you didn’t respond, too focused on the task at hand. He was still looking in your vague direction for an answer, when you turned back to face him. You ignored him, and continued peeling away his blood-soaked armour.</p>
<p>You were a little pissed. You understood he wanted to help people, but wasn’t being an attorney for the innocent enough? If he was willing to die for his city, then why couldn’t he <em>just live</em> for you?</p>
<p>With a clinical precision, you threaded the needle and began to sew up his wounds. It was a strange romance you had. An odd little love language of Matt’s soft caresses and words when you fixed him up, and your hands, tense and cold because if you weren’t distant you were certain you’d cry, or scream. Or maybe both.</p>
<p>After you stitched him up, you slung his arm around your shoulder again, but this time he carried some of his own weight.</p>
<p>“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” You placed him down gently, and helped him lift his arms to put a clean shirt on. But before you could pull away again, he grabbed your wrist.</p>
<p>“Hey, talk to me, please,” he begged.</p>
<p>“I can’t. I’ve got to clean up.” A lame excuse, but you really didn’t want to deal with him right now.</p>
<p>“It can wait. This,” he gestured between the pair of you, “this can’t.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to have this conversation.”</p>
<p>“What conversation?”</p>
<p>“The one where I beg you not to go out every night and get beaten within an inch of your life. The one where you insist you have to, for your city.” You paused as your voice began to crack, tears forming in your eyes. “The one where I’m not enough for you.”</p>
<p>“You are. You are more than enough for me - you’re perfect.” He grabbed at your hand again, kissing your knuckles as he gazed up in your general direction.</p>
<p>“How? How am I enough when you go gallivanting off into the night, and don’t give a flying fuck if you make it back to me, all while you say you love me.”</p>
<p>“I do this, all of this, for you. If I don’t do what I do, the streets wouldn’t be safe for you! For anybody!”</p>
<p>“Matt, it’s never going to be safe. You’re fighting far too hard in an endless war. A war you already commit yourself to with your normal day job.”</p>
<p>“It’s not endless. It will end. And I promise you, when it does, I’ll stop. For good. I won’t go looking for trouble. I promise you that.”</p>
<p>“You mean that?” You knew it was foolish to hope, stupid even. But you couldn’t help but give in - you needed something to believe in. Because you couldn’t go on another day if you didn’t believe that your life, your love, would amount to something. You’d go insane.</p>
<p>“Of course I do. You mean everything to me,” he whispered, hugging your torso from his height sitting on the bed. You nodded, and closed your eyes, relishing in the few moments of tranquillity you were gifted.</p>
<p>“Come on, lie down with me.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” you nodded, and Matt smiled in response pulling you into a quick kiss. </p>
<p>He leaned back down on the bed and you climbed in next to him, careful not to aggravate his wounds which left you lying stiff next to him. Matt let out a scoff, before pulling your body flush to his.</p>
<p>“Is this okay? I’m not hurting you or anything?” </p>
<p>Matt smiled, “Would I have let you if it did?” </p>
<p>“Got a point there.”</p>
<p>You rested your head against his chest and let yourself just be for a minute or two; lapping up the few precious moments you had with Matt undisturbed. </p>
<p>But then your head decided to think about the worst again.</p>
<p>“Matt?”</p>
<p>He hummed.</p>
<p>“You know how you said it would eventually end? I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen. It’s like in Doctor Who - all the aliens only ever attack London; it’s like the rest of the world ceases to exist. That’s how it is for us - The Hand, the incidents, Fisk, crime. Everything happens in New York.”</p>
<p>“Where are you going with this?” you could detect the slight apprehension in his voice, he was probably worried the argument would continue.</p>
<p>“You said you’d give up the suit when you’ve stopped everything, you’re gonna be like 90 when that happens.” You giggled at the image, focusing on the hilarity of it, rather than the fact that Matt wouldn’t live to 90 if he kept going at this rate. That you’d die, old and alone.</p>
<p>“Why not? Stick does it.” Matt chuckled.</p>
<p>“Just picture it: Daredevil is discovered to be blind pensioner,” you said, reading out the imaginary headline, laughing all the while as Matt joined in. Once it ceased, it was eerily quiet as the inevitable truth smacked you in the face. Matt was going to die. And it could be any day. Maybe even tomorrow.</p>
<p>“I will do it. I will stop it. I promise you,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead.</p>
<p>“How about we both call in sick and just cuddle?” he proposed.</p>
<p>“Okay,” you agreed with a half-smile trying to swallow the dread and enjoy the moment, despite the ever-dwindling time you had left with the love of your life.</p>
<p>It was a strange romance you had. An odd love language of numbered kisses and stolen moments in a staged ignorance of the counter on Matt’s life.</p>
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